


Two blonds and silence

by Televa



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Christmas Shopping, M/M, No Dialogue, Unbeta'd, Winter, fluff?, fruk oneshot, i'm not sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 19:38:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Televa/pseuds/Televa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The two blonds didn’t exchange stories about the day’s happenings. Actually, they didn’t speak at all. When other one wanted visit a shop he simply went in, knowing that the other would follow right behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two blonds and silence

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiiiii, it's me again! (I miss winter and cold, so I decided to make this). Listen to this while reading, it'll make the atmosphere just perfect.  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u5uRMkNJ56g
> 
> Disclaimer and A/N: Hetalia doesn't belong to, I don't money from this, I don't have English as a first language, unbetad, etc. etc. etc......  
> P.S. En osaa pilkuttaa englanniksi, ffs.
> 
> // 18th of October: I'm such a jerk and realised some serious mind typos. Perhaps adding a new fic in the dead of thenight is not a wise decision? Anyways, now it's corrected and logical

The air was cold and he was shivering. Everywhere around him people passed by without giving a second glare to the tall blond, and he was complete fine with it. He checked the time and cursed softly in French how his mate seemed to be late every time they decided to spend an afternoon together. 

He tucked his hands into his pockets and swayed a little, trying to make his body warm up. Of course Decembers were usually cold in this part of Europe, but the chill air still surprised him from time to time. France was just about to get his phone and make an angry phone call to England, when he saw a familiar figure among the strangers. Cheering up a little, he headed towards the other nation with a hint of smile on his lips.

England slowed his pace, and when they finally met it was in front of a toy shop. The lights of the show window illuminated their faces with its red-and-white light, which just made the whole situation too romantic. They greeted each other and with a mutual decision, the two nations headed to the direction where France had just come from.

The two blonds didn't exchange stories about the day’s happenings. Actually, they didn't speak at all. When other one wanted visit a shop he simply went in, knowing that the other would follow right behind. This silence and mutual deciding was something England enjoyed the most in their relationship; they had known each other for so long that they didn't need nonsense babbling to ruin moments.

During their small shopping tour – well, can one really express a shopping tour small if France is involved? – the weather got colder and despite knowing that England was too familiar for his own sake to it, France suggested they’d find a small and quiet coffee shop and sit down for a while.

There was a cafe right behind the corner, and that was exactly where they finally ended up. They ordered simply just a coffee for both, and despite his coffee's taste was marvelous, Arthur preferred Francis’. That just was one of those kinds of things that were never admitted loud in any situation. England was too proud to say it aloud, but that didn't mean that France didn't know it.

 When they were finished, the two nations headed back to outside, where the crowd seemed to become even worse. It was still cold, so France leaned on against England’s arm to seek warmth. The sky above them was colored first with orange and red and then with dark blue. France noticed how in some point people around them packed their belongings and closed their shops, and that was when he looked up. England did the same gesture and for a long, silent minute the two blonds stared how the whole sky was covered with small, twinkling stars.

Once the nations had arrived at England’s apartment, they unpacked their purchases and decided to choose others’ gifts later. They made their way to Arthur’s bedroom, changed into their pajamas and slipped under the blanket. Francis wrapped his arms around Arthur’s waist and kissed his cheek.

Either France nor England was tired, so through the night they stayed up talking about their past and trying to figure out how they had managed to raise Canada and America - their so called sons – so well.

Somewhere between chatting and laughing and being in love their hands entwined, and neither of them had the smallest urge to let go.


End file.
